A Scoliosis Journey

What I Went Through (Day Of Surgery 1)

Here we go again... let's hope there's less glitches with this part! It's hellishly long, I'm sorry!

*I'm not going to disclose my weight, thank you! ;)

So, I woke up at 4am. Not fun under any circumstances, but even less funner (that's not a word, I know!) in this case, because I knew what was in store for me. Well, kind of. Nobody could have been sure at that point, unless they had a crystal ball. (If anyone does, can I borrow it?)

Where was I... oh yes, 4am. I was nil-by-mouth at this point, and so got dressed into something easy to slip on (a hoodie and a pair of culottes, I seem to remember - don't judge the culottes, I hate them too!) after I'd had my shower. My last shower before surgery... and thankfully, the last shower with Hibbiscrub! That was one part from pre-surgery that I wasn't going to miss: the Hibbiscrub and the weird gel that I had to shove up my nose for five days pre-op. I kid you not, my hospital are so thorough it's unreal. Not necessarily a bad thing!

According to pretty much everyone, my hospital is the place to have your operation, and my surgeon is the guy to do it for you. That hospital was where Princess Eugenie had her operation several years ago - the Royal National Orthopaedic Hospital in Stanmore. That certainly helped to steady my nerves, although that's not to say I wasn't nervous. Nervous, in fact, would have been an understatement.

Even the cat knew something was up. Why else would we all be up at 4am? And why else would there be my little leopard-print suitcase sitting in the living room, consisting of a few hair ties, some entertainment (including an ancient portable DVD player that could well be older than me) and a wash bag. I knew I had to bring my own soap, toothbrush, etcetera. Once I was dressed, we popped the suitcase in the car and locked up. I knew that my cat knew, because I said goodbye to her by simply giving her a scratch behind the ear, while she was laying on my bedroom floor. She never lays on my bedroom floor, it's either on the bed or under the radiator. But this time she was by my wardrobe.

So I took a quick picture and put it on my own scoliosis-dedicated Instagram with a caption of two sentences: "About to leave now. See you on the other side!". I then got in the car, and off we went!

On the way there, I checked my personal Instagram. The night before, I posted a quick thank you to everyone and a very brief explanation to my disappearance from school. I was really touched by the amount of people who commented on it. I don't exactly have many friends, so to have ten people comment on it, wishing me luck, was really lovely! And on my scoliosis account, I received 17 comments, all from people I've never even met, wishing me luck too! I felt so loved!

Bearing in mind that this was 5:30 am, I was surprised at how awake I was. I spent the journey to the hospital fidgeting (I had bought a fidget spinner specially for the long, boring days in hospital) and attempting to read some of Miranda Hart's Peggy and Me. Not the best idea, as I feel very ill if I read in a moving vehicle! 

When we got to the hospital, it was about 6:15am. We had been told to arrive for 7, so we waited in the car for half an hour. My parents slept, but obviously I didn't. One of us had to be awake to check the time! At a quarter to seven, we got the suitcase out of the car and trotted up to what we had gathered was the side entrance to the Coxen & Adolescent Ward. I said to my mum as we walked up, "If I end up having just the one surgery, I am determined to be out of here by Saturday!"

(My surgeon had told us that there was a possibility that he would combine the two surgeries, but it all depended on the X-rays that would be taken that morning. I hoped he would!)

We buzzed the buzzer and they let us in. They signed me in and took me to my little room. They obviously knew that I would be staying there for longer than most patients, because they gave me Bay 10 (or it might have been 11, 12, or 13 - can't remember!) which was by the window. The windows were blackened, so that I could see out but nobody could see in. I later learned that if someone can see the outside world from their hospital bed, it helps them recover faster.